“You’re like a toddler,” I say, exasperation heavy in my voice.
“But a toddler that can drink.”
“Terrifying image.” I give in on a sigh. “Why did you interrupt me?”
“What do you think Harrison’s going to make us do to get this sale?”
“I try not to think about it beforehand, because if I thought about late nights, elaborate gift baskets, or feeding a millionaire’s pet snake with live mice, then I probably wouldn’t have gotten into this car today.”
Gavin laughs with his head thrown back, and my eyes zero in on the rhythmic way his giant chest moves up and down with the motion.
“The pet snake is a good one, but have you ever had to shuffle a millionaire’s mistress out of his hotel room under a catering cart?”
I laugh with him, trying to picture him in that French farce. “But that does make me sad for the wife.”
“I did too. Really cut up, actually. But then the next weekend she asked me to send some vintage cufflinks she bought from us to her special friend, so I stopped feeling bad about it after that.”
Ah, the people we meet in this job.
We settle into a nice conversation sharing our war stories, and the things we’ve done to get and keep clients. I don’t think about the work I still have to do and the tablet stays unused on my lap, which makes the ride an unexpected but pleasant break.
This makes the second time I’ve had a civil conversation with Gavin about the industry. An easy, companionable, pleasant conversation. I like talking to people not related to me about my passion. Is this how people with huge friend groups feel?
But does that meanwe’rebecoming friends?
“We’re almost there, Priya.” Tom breaks into my thoughts.
“Thanks, Tom.” Oh wow, that went by fast. But now it’s time to work. “I hope Harrison decides that dragging us out here is enough to prove how worthy we are, and he just has some simple but well-thought-out questions that I can shine answering. Then I can enjoy a nice dinner and be back in the city before too much goes wrong at home.”
“Ditto. Except the part where I get the job. You can still have a nice dinner though.”
“So magnanimous of you.”
We roll through the elaborate wrought-iron front gate of the property and up the drive. I haven’t even seen the house yet, but I can already tell that it’s going to be spectacular. The drive is lined with trees, and the flowers on them look so artfully placed that I wouldn’t put it past Harrison to have the landscape team to go around and arrange each flower for effect.
When I do see the house, I’m not surprised by the way it takes my breath away. I’ve had that feeling for houses, paintings, sculptures, cabinets, chairs, vases, purses and the odd dress. I haven’t felt it for a man though.
That might not be the best sign.
The house is three stories tall, with large windows framed by brick, and vibrant green ivy crawling up the façade, which is so long Harrison probably refers to one side as the East Wing and the other as the West Wing. The front entrance is framed by Ionic columns, with a flickering lantern on each side of the large door.
As we drive up, Harrison’s employees come outside, dressed in their finest livery, to greet us and get our bags out of the car. I feel bad for them, because between us we have about four large suitcases and three assorted small bags. I had to pack for every possible situation, which adds up. To fit them all in the car, some traveled in the front seat.
The staff tell us Harrison is waiting in the morning room. I bet there’s probably also a drawing room in here, for excess’s sake.
I tentatively pass through the entrance, into the foyer. The wood-paneled room is illuminated by the soft glow from the chandelier and fireplace, which flickers over the sculptural elements of the walls. Above the chandelier, a tromp l’oeil painting shows cherubs looking down at us from a painted balcony, curiously watching the lives unfolding beneath them.
A stoic employee with a tray of champagne glasses offers us his goods, and then directs us to the morning room.
Liquid courage in hand, we enter to be greeted by a crowd of about five people in various poses of lounging.
Harrison stands up to greet us. “There you are, now the games can begin.”
Chapter Fourteen
I awkwardly laugh at the comment, really regretting my stubbornness, which wouldn’t let me walk away from this job.
Maybe Harrison sees the terror on my face, because he laughs too. “Just kidding. This is going to be a relaxing week.”
